Friday was supposed to be the big pre-reunion picnic in Tina Park but she wasn't going. The idea of seeing these people tomorrow was already putting her stomach into knots. Seeing them tonight…not possible. Besides, she already had plans for a different type of reunion tonight.

Since her graduation from university and her acceptance into the med program part of her schooling, she'd been in regular contact with her sister Olga. Olga had surprised her by unexpectedly showing up at her graduation. After the ceremony the two sisters had gone to a restaurant and talked for six hours straight. Granted they weren't close like sister were usually portrayed in books and movies, but they had a connection. Olga had moved back to Hillwood with her two children after her divorce from her husband. She taught second grade as PS 118 and motherhood had settled her down a bit. She wasn't nearly as annoyingly perfect as Helga once thought she was. She seen her sister with bits of paper and glue in her hair; less then perfect outfits, and yelling incoherent sentences at both of her children when they had finally managed to hit that last strand of never ending patience Olga always seemed to have. For Helga, her sister had fallen off the pedestal their parents had placed her on and lived among the normal people now. And she loved her for it.

After speaking with Jennifer, Helga had called Olga and told her of her decision. Olga had been a little more ecstatic than Helga was.

"Oh Helga, that's wonderful!" Olga squealed. "I'll call Mommy and Daddy and we'll have dinner at their house. I'll cook."

Helga winced. "Um, Olga, I really don't think that's a good idea…"

"Nonsense. Mommy and Daddy have been asking about you and this will be the perfect time to patch up any old wounds." She said over the suddenly burst of noise. "Hold on a minute."

Helga grinned and tried not to snicker as she heard her sister arguing with her niece and nephew. "Damon, you cannot chase the dog with shaving cream! Give it here. Maddie, hand over the scissors. Now! You two go into the living room and pick out a tape. Mommy will be in there in a moment." Olga got back on the phone and Helga bit her lip to keep the grin out of her voice.

"Let me just call them, okay?" Olga pleaded. "I'll talk it over with them, then let you know what they said. Please?"

"Okay." Helga relented. "Let me know."

That conversation led her to where she was now, standing in front of the familiar brownstone that she'd once called home for eighteen years. She tried to quell the nervousness in her stomach, and briefly thought about chucking the whole thing and hiding in her hotel room until Sunday. The door opened before she could put that plan into action and her five-year-old niece stood there, a grin from ear to ear.

"Auntie Helga!" She screeched. Helga picked up the girl and hugged her.

"Hello Maddie. Is it safe to come in?"

Maddie wrinkled her nose. "Mommy's making weird food but other then that…"

Damon walked into the entryway to see what his sister was doing. He spotted Helga and grinned.
"Mom! Aunt Helga is here!" The six year old screamed, then ran to give his Aunt a hug. Helga was just walking into the house, with two children hanging on her when Olga and her mother walked out of the kitchen.

"Could you let her get into the house first please?" Olga asked, exasperated. The two kids dropped, allowing Helga to stretch her back. Olga ran up and hugged her sister.
"Oh baby sister! I'm glad you came."

"Well, you kind of roped me into it Olga." She sniffed. "What smells good?"

"The pot roast and baby potatoes. You know how daddy is abut his meat and potatoes."

She smiled and braced herself as she spotted her mother. "Hey Miriam."

The older lady smiled, walking towards Helga. "Oh my baby girl." She sobbed.

Helga rolled her eyes, hugging her mother. "Mom, it's okay. I…I missed you too."

Olga just smiled and skipped back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

"I was so worried about you." Miriam said, still sniffing a bit, pulling away from her youngest daughter. "Then Olga told us how you receive your Doctorate and I realized you weren't a little girl anymore." She sighed. "I remember how I used to brush you hair every night before bed."

Helga shook her head. "Mom, that was Olga."

"It was?" She looked confused. Helga sighed again.

"Never mind Mom. Let's go help Olga with dinner."

Helga stood in the doorway of the living room watching her father watch some game show. So far, the evening was going better than expected. She certainly didn't expect flowers and celebrations, but to find her mother at least sober, that was a highlight. Olga had told her that her mom had gotten help, but to actually see it was completely different.

Now, she had to face the other problem in her life. She cleared her throat.

"Hey dad? Dinner's ready."

"Huh? Oh. Is you sister here yet, Olga?"

"It's Helga dad, and yeah, I'm here."

Bob Pataki turned around in his chair and eyes his youngest daughter.

"So you are." He turned off the TV and stood up.

"So. Olga tells us you're a doctor. Got a college degree and everything."

"Yep. Kind of need one of those to be a doctor. That and a Doctorate."

"And you did it all by yourself, eh?"

"It's called a scholarship, but yeah, pretty much."

Bob studied her for a moment. Then, he smiled.

"I'm proud of you, girl."

Helga was taken aback. "Um…thanks Dad. That's means a lot."

"Eh. Come on; let's go eat dinner. Your sister's probably making her fru fru dinners again, I'll have to go out later and get some real food."

"Actually, she's making pot roast and baby potatoes."

"Pot roast, hu? Well, that's different. So, what kind of doctor are you?"

"I'm a child psychiatrist."

"A head shrinker? And people pay you for that?"

"Amazingly well too. Plus I get to prescribe medicine."

"Hm… you'll have to tell me about that sometime."

"Okay."

Helga returned to her hotel room, throwing her purse on the bed and kicking off her shoes. Dinner wasn't as bad as she would have pictured it, and it seemed as if her parents had mellowed now that there weren't kids in the house. She and Bob had even had a halfway decent conversation that hadn't crumbled into an argument. Now if the rest of the weekend went as smooth as this, she could return to Burlington feeling like she'd accomplished something. Of course she knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

An insistence knocking on her door broke her out of her thoughts. Frowning, she walked over and opened the door. Phillip stood there, his green eyes frustrated.

She opened the door further, observing him.

"So, I'm guessing you need chocolate."

He nodded, tight lipped. She nodded slowly.

"Hold on, let me get my slippers." Leaving the door open, she slid on a pair of comfy slippers, and grabbed some change out of her purse. Grabbing her card key, she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Let go get some chocolate."

They walked down to the vending area quietly, Phillip not saying anything until they reached the enclosed room where the vending machines stood. Without even asking, she put in the money and punched the code for plain M & M's. She handed them over without a word, and then got herself a soda.

"Are all adults here rude?"

"Most of them," she answered not missing a beat. "What happened?"

The boy flopped onto the floor next to the candy machine and opened his package of candy.

"We went to this outdoor dinner tonight. With a bunch of people I didn't know, but I guess my dad went to school with. They all talked to him, and kept talking down to me like I was three years old or something. Then they all asked the same thing."

"Where your mother was." Helga confirmed. Phillip nodded.

"When my dad said I didn't have a mom, they all kept apologizing. Like she'd just died or something. She didn't die. I just never had one."

Helga took a seat on the floor next to him, her back against the wall. "Remember what I said yesterday about how people apologize in awkward situations?"

Phillip nodded.

"People have preconceived notions of how the world should work. We shouldn't, but it's things that have been ingrained in us from our parents and society. You're going to have a completely different set of ideals when you grown up because of the society you were raised in. Here, when a man walks in with a child, it's assumed that there's a wife, because there is a preconceived notion that men cannot be caretakers. If there is no female, it is assumed that she is not here or that she died. Another preconceived notion that women would not just leave their child. The mothering instinct is suppose to prevent that. But some women were not meant to be mothers. A single father from birth is awkward therefore, people apologize."

Phillip ate some of his candy silently for a bit, then looked at her. "I don't hate my mom. I don't know who she is and my dad never thought there was a reason to tell me. And until this weekend, it never really mattered. I have more than enough women from the village we live in that take care of me. The village is a big family that takes care of all the kids. I'm just a part of that family." He munched on a couple more pieces of candy.

"Dad was upset too. He said three of his closest friends hadn't shown for the picnic. He smiled and talked with everyone, but I could tell he was upset."

Helga's breath hitched in her throat. Phoebe and Gerald hadn't showed at the picnic either. And she didn't even dare to hope that the third friend was she. She'd come here for closure, not to bring up silly old obsessions for a man she didn't even know anymore.

"He's here for the class reunion, isn't he?"

Phillip nodded. Helga smiled.

"Well, there's always tomorrow's dinner. Perhaps your dad will see his friends tomorrow."

"Maybe." He stood up and she followed suit. "Thanks for the chocolate and for letting me talk." He eyed her. "Not very many people would sit down and listen to a ten year old kid talk."

"That's what I do for a living. I listen to kids when no one else will."

"Well you're good at it."

Helga grinned. "That's what my other kids tell me too."

He yawned. "Night Helga."

"Goodnight Phillip."